


Here, at the End of all Things

by BloodEarthAndInk



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 23:15:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7733593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodEarthAndInk/pseuds/BloodEarthAndInk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Melkor has escaped the Void and the Dagor Dagorath is swiftly approaching. With the world ignorant to the battle it is about to be plunged into, and the Valar preparing for war, Eönwë finds himself being contacted by Sauron, and even more surprising is the message Sauron has for him. The question remains however, can Eönwë actually trust him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here, at the End of all Things

The creature's roar ripped through his ears. Eönwë had been expecting something of the kind since first Melkor had escaped his prision and he had been assigned guard over Arien and Tilion. Even just this day he had felt on edge since dawn, expecting...ai, Eru alone knew. And yet, here, now, to actually be fighting it...

The thing, a swirling amorphous shade, swiped out at Eönwë with long, raking claws, mere inches from his face. Eönwë yanked himself back, wings straining under the jarring stop. Like black smoke, the shade began curling itself around the Maia, blacking out the blazing flare of the setting sun, curling around him to get to it's real prize. Behind himself, he could hear his charge calling out to him.

 _“ I3ônowêz!”_ Arien's voice

He spun around, just to see the creature reforming and creeping, serpent-like, towards her, just as the shadow closed in to a near choking blackness around him. Heart pounding, arms acting almost of their own accord, Eönwë swung out, sword slicing through the shadow's form.

A piercing shriek echoed in the ink-black air around him, cutting through Eönwë's chest. The clamor pounded through his head. He curled in on himself clawing at his own ears. As the sound ripped through him he could barely tell weather the sound came from outside or inside his own head.

Memories of Mandos's prophesy, that the sun would be devoured, flashed through his mind. Tilion's tales of the shadows that had attacked him, in those early days at the beginning of the First Age. Was this it? Had he failed? Since Morgoth's escape from the Void he had been assigned to protect her...

The beast withdrew. The sun pierced bright and red through Eönwë's eyes, clamped shut. A low growl reached his ears. As he opened his eyes, Eönwë saw the shadow, curling around his form, it's focus now entirely upon him.

He had only a moment of sunlight, only a moment of clean air, before that same suffocating blackness began to creep back into the edges of his vision. There was no time to think, only a need to _escape_ by whatever means he could. He let his wings dissolve, burn off like so much steam. Eönwë's stomach lurched out from beneath him, and he began to fall.

The wind roared around his ears, and he crashed through the clouds, their clinging chill biting through his flesh. His eyes watered, and he could barely keep them _open_ to see...

But there! Out of the corner of his vision he saw it. The shadow's black tendrils reaching for him from above. If he could just distract it, if he could take it's attention away from Arien...

His mind raced, summoning back his wings and fighting against the rushing air to open them again. It felt as though they were being ripped from his back. But he managed to pull himself to a stop, slowing in his decent, his wings pulling him back up to meet the creature directly.

The beast lunged at Eönwë, even as the Maia dove forward to meet it, driving his sword hilt-deep into it. With a sharp hiss, the shadow lept back again, and dove towards the earth.

Blood singing in his ears, air scraping against his throat, Eönwë followed. He could not let it get away. Not to return and attack again, not to cause harm to those below. To those for whom such beasts had long since faded into mere story.

In the back of his mind he was aware of Arien calling to him. He curled around, glancing over his shoulder back at her, but saw that she was safe. No other shadow darkened the air, no other beast approached for an attack. He waved her on, shouting back, “Return to Valmar! I will meet you there!” before diving down, towards the crossing roads and ever-growing towers of the city below.

He abandoned physical form as he grew nearer and nearer, the roar of machinery and the voices of hundreds – _thousands –_ of people building with each passing moment. His eyes scanned the sky for any sign of the shadow.

And then he saw it. Floating just above the treeline in a wooded area, almost _tauntingly_. He should have known he was being led on then. Like a gust of wind, he sped after the beast, sending the trees swaying, leaves falling against one another in a rattling hiss, as he found himself in an empty clearing. Cursing, Eönwë looked wildly about for the beast, but found nothing.

That is. Almost nothing.

“Ah, I3ônowêz, you dissapoint me. Are you truely so easily baited, my friend? Pity, I had almost hoped for more resistance, or atleast, more suspicion.”

Even standing unclothed, without a house of flesh to provide the usual sensations, to hear those words spoken, in _that_ voice sent a numbing chill through Eönwë, freezing him where he stood.

Silence was all that followed. Silence in which the distant voices of children, and the calls of their mothers to come along before it grew too dark, could be heard. The grass folded beneath Sauron's feet as he stepped forward out of the ever lengthening shadows. To Eönwë's sight the flesh Sauron wore was little more than a vague and indistinct mask, beneath which his true form could be seen. A spirit that even as he stood in one singular spot, seemed to fill the clearing to even the most distant corner. A void, an abyss, a looming shadow who's tendrils seemed dark even in comparison to the approaching nightfall. Yet the smirk that curled upon Sauron's lips still stood out, clear as the morning sun.

“Come now, are you not going to speak to me?” Sauron gave a soft “tsk,” shaking his head.

The fallen Maia's mockery grated at Eönwë. His spirit blared the more sharply with the light and music of his being, enough so that even Sauron gritted his teeth against it, though that smirk never did fade completely.

 _“What is this Sauron?”_ Eönwë demanded. _“You unleash one of your master's beasts against Arien and you expect-”_

“Ah, you think-!” His own laughter cut Sauron off, He was shaking his head, holding up a hand to silence Eönwë, and keep him from jumping in. “No, no, you misunderstand! Ai, you believe that shade to be _real?_ I am afraid you are mistaken...” He cleared his throat, straightening once more as he sobered. With a roll of his wrist and a softly murmured spell, the shade sprang into being once more. “Mere sorcery, you see? Ai, I have not used that trick since Gorlim either, I had forgotten nearly how useful it could be...”

 _“A trick then?”_ Eönwë's spirit flared, but even as the realization came to him, a new thought crashed through his mind. He spun, already the pull of his obligations yanking him back into the air and back west. His mind raced. A _distraction,_ and now with Arien alone and unguarded....

“Remain here, I3ônowêz.” Sauron drawled, sounding distinctly bored. Eönwë could feel the fallen Maia's eyes tracking him. “I mean no harm to you.” A pause, perhaps as Sauron realized it was his own life Eönwë cared least for. “Nor to any other.”

Eönwë was not listening. Already at the treeline again, it was only as he felt Sauron's mind brush against his own – the creeping familiarity of it making his stomach leap – that he stopped. _“Would I reveal myself so easily to you if all I had planned was a mere distraction?”_

He should have closed his thoughts off to the fallen Maia. Should not have paid him neither ear nor mind. And yet...” _What_ _ **is**_ _it you want then?”_

_“Only to speak. You can spare me a few moments of your time, yes?”_

_“Time in which your Master can-”_

_“My Master knows nothing of this.”_

Despite himself, Eönwë hesitated. His own curiosity dueled with his knowledge of who he was speaking to. What he was dealing with. _“I do not believe you.”_ And with those words he would have been gone.

Would have been.

 _“Then go back. Only, allow me to follow you, where I may. We can speak until we must go our seperate ways, can we not?”_ How reasonable Sauron sounded. But then, ever had that been a talent of his.

Against his better judgement, Eönwë relented. “ _If I feel even once that you are intentionally slowing me...”_

 _“Of course, of course...”_ Even as the words were thought a bat came flapping up beside Eönwë. Sauron must have sensed his incredulity for it was not long afterward that the fallen Maia said, “ _You will forgive me, it has been to long since the privilege of a physical form has been granted to me, and I am loath to let it go...”_

A brief gust of wind, almost sounding like a snort was Eönwë's only response as he sped off, over the tops of trees and buildings, fast enough that the bat struggled to keep up with him. _“Speak quickly. What is it you want?”_ were his only words.

_“Rather clipped for a Servant of Manwë, are we not? Ai, and what happened to that forgiving Maia that once I knew! So willing to **listen...”**_

_“Sauron...”_ If thoughts could approach the level of a growl, then surely Eönwë's were.

There was a pause, and then on the edges of his mind, Eönwë herd a sound almost approaching a sigh. _“I want to **help** you, I3ônowêz.”_

It took a moment for the Herald of Manwë to fully process what he was hearing. As the words sunk in he drew to a halt, body reforming if only that he might turn on Sauron, his eyes narrowed and his his lips drawn into a grim line. “What?”

“ _My Master is free. I am returned to my previous strength and power. We both know what end is coming.”_ Sauron glanced downwards, before taking on the form he had worn previously. Fair of face and as familiar as ever. Eönwë gritted his teeth upon seeing it.

It was the same form he had worn whilst working in Aulë's forges and walking beneath the trees in Almaren those many Ages ago. It was the same form he had worn when coming to Eönwë that first time, after the War of Wrath, and begging for pardon. The same curtain of fiery red hair that had fallen down to his mid-back. The same gleaming peircings that studded his ears and had him glittering in gold. The sleek strength of his build, broad shouldered and tall, the sharp lines of his face, high cheekbones and strong jawline. Everything down to those wide grey eyes, eternally eager and curious – almost _too_ innocent looking – and the smattering of freckles across his cheeks. The only difference were those wings, so much a mirror of Eönwë's own, it felt a mockery.

It was only as he felt the sharp prickling at his palms that Eönwë realized his fists were clenching. _I should have never allowed you to escape the first time._

If Sauron noticed his companions's reaction, he gave no sign, instead gesturing downwards, towards the city below. Eönwë's gaze followed his hand.

Chinks of light, warmer in color than the clear blue of the Noldorin lamps that could be seen looking down on Tirion from Taniquetil, and yet still so familiar to Eönwë lay scattered out across the streets. So many people, living, working, going about their lives...

Lives that they had no clue were soon about to be interupted.

Sauron's voice cut through his throughts.“As I said, we both know what end this world is coming to.”

For a moment, Eönwë was merely silent, casting Sauron a side-long look. “I believe you are forgetting who's side you're on.” Was all he said, before flying off once more.

He did not get far before Sauron caught up with him. Eönwë gave no acknowledgement to the fallen Maia, however, his gaze remaining fixed on straight ahead.

“You will not hear me out?” Sauron said, “What _has_ happened to you. One who used to be so forgiving – ”

“Did I feel you truly repentant then perhaps I would be.” Eönwë ground out. He still did not look back at Sauron. He had trusted Sauron once, long enough for him to escape and pick up in his Master's footsteps. Did he truly think so little of him as to try the same again?

“ _I3ônowêz...”_

 _“_ Leave, Sauron. Sully my name with your lips once more-”

“ _Eönwë!”_ His name was spat out as a sharp growl. The shear force was enough to bring Eönwë to a halt again. When he turned on Sauron he saw the fallen Maia's muscles were pulled bowstring-taught, his eyes flashing.

“I was doing you a kindness. Attempting, yes, to appeal to your better nature. You would have felt better for it, perhaps." Tossing his head, the fallen Maia let out a snort, crossing his arms as he stared down Eönwë, a challenge almost in his eyes. "No, I do not care for the Children you profess to love so much. But do not mistake me. I am sincere in my desire to lend you what assistance I may.” A viscous smile spread across Sauron face. Nay, that would be to kind an expression. _Sauron bore his teeth._ “I want to see Melkor fall.”

Eönwë could feel the breath leaving him. He stared back at Sauron, whatever words he might have said stolen from him, leaving him with only one. “ _What?”  That_ He could not have heard correctly.  _That_ surely must have been a lie. And how tempting a lie it was to believe as well! To hear that he wanted to betray the very Vala who had stolen- _ai_ , how transparent could he be?

But Sauron went on, as as much as Eönwë was loath to trust him again, the bitterness in his voice rang true. “Be satisfied in the knowledge that he has pushed me to far, forgetting _indeed_ what a treacherous bastard I can be. I will say no more of it.”

Once more, despite himself Eönwë found himself hesitating, glancing back over his shoulder towards the path he should have been taking. “I..." _He knew better than this. "_ I cannot..”

Frustration was quickly beginning to overtake Sauron's features. His lips curled into a snarl. “Must you be so _self-righteous?_ I am offering to _help you._ Or are you so self-assured in your victory that-”

“Eru has mandated that-”

“Ai! _Eru!”_ Sauron rolled his eyes.

Eönwë nearly bit his tongue off, to keep himself from saying anything he would find himself regretting. In the end he could only shake his head. “I cannot believe you...”

“You cannot – ”

“You yourself say you are a treacherous bastard!” Eönwë shook his head again, as though confirming to himself that he could not go through with this. “Convince me otherwise. Prove to me you are serious. Sue the Valar for their pardon, do what you never could. Perhaps then we may talk. Until then however...” Eönwë only shrugged.

Turning back around for one final time, he flew off, leaving Sauron behind him.

 


End file.
